


The Moments He Saw Only You

by VoluntaryBubblehead



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-09 23:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoluntaryBubblehead/pseuds/VoluntaryBubblehead
Summary: Four times where the Red Spy let his guard down, only to let you see him for what he really was. Pure fluff. *Note, this is an old fic, so I apologize for any ooc that occurs since I'm no longer in the know of TF2 canon*





	1. The Color Red

The first moment was one you hadn’t picked up immediately, and honestly you probably wouldn’t have ever noticed anything at all if he hadn’t continued. Nonetheless, it was the first moment that started it all, and thus was one you thought back on fondly. 

It was late in the afternoon, middle of the week, and the day had begun with a vigorous training session. Lounging in your room after a quick shower, you sat at your desk chair, one foot propped up into the wooden desk. Rummaging through the drawer, you pulled out a vial of deep red nail polish, carefully unscrewing the cap and laying the paint onto your toe nails. You were done with the right and had proceeded to begin the left when a sudden alarm sounded through the building. Your eyes shot up to the light above your door, calming to see it blinking blue instead of orange. Merely a safety drill. However, you glanced back down at your foot. The paint was still drying, and hell if you were going to mess up a perfectly good paint job all because of a silly drill.  


A knock on your door drew your eyes up. “Come in!” You called, resuming your painting.

The door inched open, followed by Spy’s curious gaze. He looked up at the flashing light and blaring speakers, eyebrows raising as he turned to you. “You are aware of the drill, are you not?”  
Only your eyes lifted from your work, and you stared at him over your knee, gesturing with the nail brush to your feet. “I thought you of all people would appreciate not ruining fashion.”  
His brows rose further, and he opened his mouth before closing it with a sigh, shaking his head. He wandered over to you, scooping the polish bottle up and tightening the cap. “Hey!” You swiped at his arm, but he batted you away, taking the red polish and the clear top coat bottles and shoving them into his suit pocket.

You yelped as he suddenly lifted you from the chair, carrying you bridal style, ever mindful of your toes. You subconsciously wrapped your arms around his neck, very aware of how strong his arms were beneath you. “Spy?”

He carried you out into the hall. “I’m offering assistance, Sneak. When the monitors go through the base, we’ll get a reprimand if they find you there.”

You said nothing as he continued down the stairs and out into the yard, setting you down on the short rock wall that encompassed the bases property. You were about to thank him when he reached into his pocket and fished out the bottles, lifting his hand and motioning for you to give him your foot. “What-” You asked, raising the appendage and watching as he proceeded to finish painting your nails, quite expertly, you noticed.

Eyes focused hard on the task at hand, Spy murmured, “You’re right. I do appreciate not ruining fashion, and I must say this color is quite becoming on you.”

You smiled, however you tilted your head and pointed out, “You see me wearing red every day though.”

His eyes flicked up to yours for a second before returning to his work. “Oui.”

The matter-of-fact tone of voice was undermined by what you could only describe as a sound of contentment, and you bite your lip, unsure of how to reply and instead simply staying very still as he closed the red bottle. He blew gently on your toes, and you couldn’t help but wiggle them, laughing at his tickling breath. He gave a low chuckle, holding your feet steady and sending another burst of warm air to your skin. “Spy, stop, that tickles!”

“But it must dry.” He flashed a small smile before a thought seemed to come to his head, and he opened the clear bottle while he asked, “So you are ticklish then?”

You froze at his question, eyes narrowing as he glanced down to your toes. “Sure. Isn’t everybody?”

He shook his head. “Non, you’d be surprised. I’m not, for example.”

“You’re not, at all?”

He considered your nails for a second, sliding his own finely manicured nail around your toe and wiping away the excess polish. “I was coddled quite a bit as a child. My mother tickled me often, and thus I got over it.”

A frown touched your lips, and you reached your hand up to your neck. “I was tickled a lot too, but I’m…”

You caught his eyes upon the hand on your neck and you fling your arm down, turning your attention to your feet. He was just finishing up the top coat as the sounds from the base disappeared. At the sudden absence of noise, Spy stood, handing you back the two bottles. “I believe my work is complete.” He said as he turned to head inside, but you wagged your legs after him, drawing his attention.

“Wait, it’s still drying! Can’t you carry me back inside?”

He merely stared at your pout, making a quick peak at the blue sky above you. “It’s not going to rain, Sneak. I think you’ll be fine.”

“Spy!”

He only offered a nod of his head before heading within the base, leaving you shouting after him as the steel door closed. You sighed, head falling back as you stared at the cloudless sky. Such an ass, but… You glanced at your toes, the bright red gleaming back at you. He did a great job, and he was so kind about it. You smiled to yourself, dangling your legs back and forth and watching your new nails shine in the sunlight.


	2. Just For Him

The second moment was the one that truly made you begin the steady thought process of a certain person’s actions, and it was the first time you felt the soon to be familiar heart flutter you experienced whenever he was in the room. 

It was a weekend, only a few days after you’d had Spy graciously paint your toe nails. Every Merc cherished the two free days a week, 48 hours in which they could do as they pleased without the constant worry of having to be called into random battle. You had grown bored in your room, and had left to find some entertainment. Fortunately, you had run into Scout in the living room, his body flopped over the back of the couch as he moaned, “There’s nothin’ to eat!”

You placed your hands on your hips. “There’s tons of food. Engie’s leftover-”

He shook his head, waving his arms. “No, no, no. I want snacks! Sugar! I’m runnin’ low here, toots.”

You sighed, shaking your head with a grin. “If it’ll keep you quiet, I’ll make you cookies-”

Scouts excited yell was cut off by a cry of indignation from behind you, and you spun around to see Soldier. “Private, did you say you’re making cookies?”

“Uh, yeah…”

The grin that crossed his face would make one believe you’d just told him he’d won the lottery. Marching towards you, he threw you over one shoulder, thrusting a hand into the air. “To the kitchen!” He shouted, Scout following behind with the occasional, “Yeah!”

You laughed hard as he set you down, both men waiting patiently for instructions. Swiping Engie’s old cookbook off the counter, you flipped through it, eyes flitting past recipes and stopping when you saw a certain page. Turning the book to the guys, you pointed to the picture. “What do you guys think of these?”

Scout leaned in and read. “Peanut butter chocolate chip. Sounds fantastic, toots!”

Soldier gave you a salute. “Agreed! I shall gather the ingredients!” 

Both of them scrambled to bring you what you needed and you giggled behind your hand, starting up measuring as a confused Scout brought you a whole box of different measuring cups. Before long you had a pan in the oven, and a wooden spoon in your hand, flicking it upon the wrists of those wishing to swipe some extra dough. “I’m going to have to ban you all from the kitchen!” You yelled after Demo had slunk into the room and up to the bowl, earning him a quick whack. 

Engie peaked his head in, smelling the air with a smile. “Don’t disturb a cook while they’re bakin’, boys. Come on, now, Heavy and Sniper are back with that video we wanted.”

The three of them headed out with Engie, and you could hear the familiar argument of ‘no, I’m sitting there’ rise up from the living room. A ding from the oven distracted you, and you replaced the pans, setting the hot one on the stove. “We need more fuckin’ chairs!” Demo shouted, followed by Scout’s reply, “Well, then tell Pyro to stop fuckin’ burnin’ ‘em all!”

An angry muffled rebuttal and the familiar thunk of a body hitting the floor informed you that you should probably intervene. Dumping the warm cookies onto a large plate, you hustled from the kitchen and into the living room. Pyro stood above Scout, hand gripping his shirt hard while Heavy nonchalantly held back Pyro’s raised fist. “Who wants cookies?” You hold the plate up, bringing everyone’s gaze to you.

“Memph! Memph!” Pyro dropped Scout to the floor and scrambled over, holding out both hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Watch out, they’re still really really hot.” You warned him, sliding two cookies into his hand.

He scuttled off to eat them and you meandered over to the guys, offering them the plate. Each graciously took a few, nods and ‘thank you’s flowing around the room. You look around, noticing the absence of one Merc. “Where’s Spy?”

From the couch, Medic gestured off towards the stairs. “In his room. He showed no interest in wanting to join us.”

Settling down into the floor with a ‘humph’, Scout added, “Yeah, he made that clear.”

“Hey, let the Spook be anti-social. More for us.” Sniper shrugged, taking another cookie with a smile and a nod.

Grabbing the remote, Engie turned on the movie, and you settled down on the couch arm, giving the cookie plate to Demo when he reached out for another. “Pass that around.” You whispered as the opening credits began.

The movie was alright enough, a little plotless, but the fight scenes were enjoyable, and the various weapons caused the men around you to start up debates whenever one was used. Rolling your eyes at the latest argument, you slid off the couch as Heavy paused the movie. “But that is not how explosives work.” Heavy tried to explain to Sniper, motioning to Demo and Soldier.

Leaving the guys to their debate, you quickly headed into the kitchen, pulling out the third batch of cookies. A soft sound behind you perked up your ears, but you didn’t turn as you carefully pushed the cookies onto the plate, shifting them around to create a small mound. “I could smell them from upstairs.” Spy mused, eyeing the plate from his spot in the doorway.

You smiled, tilting your head towards them. “Want one?”

He frowned slightly, placing a hand into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. “I would, believe me, but I have a small peanut allergy. Nothing too problematic, but it’s best if I avoid your delightful desserts.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, I had no idea.”

He lit the cigarette, sending the smell of expensive vanilla and cream around the room, mingling rather deliciously in the air. “I like to keep my personal life private.”

You couldn’t help but feel extraordinarily honored at his release of private information, and your smile grew as you gazed at him. His eye met yours, and you watched them flick up and down your body rapidly before settling back on your face. “Excuse me.” He coughed, adjusting his cigarette and maneuvering back into the hall.

Turning to the full plate of cookies, you thought over his words, a decision forming in your mind just as Scout called to you from the living room, “Sneak, hurry! Big Nose is about to get his head blown off!”

You hurried off, situating yourself back into the couch arm. The movie passed in front of you, but you didn’t take in any of it, your mind focused on a certain Spy who had suddenly captivated your thoughts. After the movie had finished, and everyone had shuffled off to bed, you tiptoed back to the kitchen, finding a new recipe in the book and setting to work on your plan. You worked quietly and quickly, eventually pulling out the hot pan and inhaling the sweet scent of sugar. 

Arranging the small batch onto a gilded plate, you exited the kitchen and stepped confidently up the stairs. Spy’s room lay at the end of the hall, just next to yours, and you knocked gently on his door. Silence closed in on you, and for a moment you worried he was asleep, but finally the door opened slowly, revealing Spy. You bit your lip with an apologetic smile, as it’s obvious you woke him. His shirt was heavily wrinkled, only buttoned half-way, and the ones that were done were mismatched. His suit pants were clearly pulled on hastily, loose and crumpled around his legs, and his mask sat only slightly askew on his face, small bits of dark brown hair sticking out in several spots.

He glanced down at the plate you were offering up to him, the first genuinely shocked look you’d ever seen on his face. “What is this?”

You shrugged, embarrassment sending your gaze to your feet. “I… I made you some sugar cookies. No peanuts.”

You glanced back up, noticing his gaze no longer lingered on the snacks, but on you, and you could swear you saw a pink blush peeking out from the lopsided edges of the mask. “You did this just for me?”

You nodded. “You don’t have to take them if you don’t want to. I just didn’t want you to feel left out.”

His mouth dropped open slightly, and you realized that within the last few seconds, you’d become privy to the true emotional side of Spy he had never allowed any before to see. “T-thank you.” He murmured, as surprised as you to hear himself stutter.

Blush becoming much more obvious now, he took the plate from you, shuffling slightly, his face uncertain. You alleviated him of his troubles by giving a quick ‘good night’, and turning to your own door, closing it behind you with a soft click. You didn’t even realize your own flush until you turned to your mirror, catching your reflection and subconsciously lifting your hand to your beat red cheeks.

A smile touched your lips, your mind replaying the scene over and over in your mind until you forced it away, throwing yourself onto your bed and staring up at the ceiling.


	3. A Spy’s Dance

The third moment was driven entirely by you, your sudden interest in the Spy slowly becoming more and more apparent. After the second moment, your mind had refused to fall asleep for several hours, forcing you to think back on not only the meeting at the door, but the previous meeting with your toe nails. He wasn’t an unkind person, but the sort of gentleness he’d shared with you was very new. By the time you’d managed to calm your raging mind and the morning had arrived, you’d settled into the fact that whether or not some feelings for you rested within Spy, the Frenchman had captured your heart. 

You woke with an immediate smile as your thoughts returned to your encounter the night before. Dressing quickly, you left your room, eyes darting to Spy’s closed door before you hastily made your way down the stairs where Engie sat at the dining table munching on leftover pizza. “Mornin’, Darlin’.” He called to you, and you stretched lazily, swiping some pizza from the open box on the table.

“Morning, Engie. How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good, thanks for askin’. Got any plans for the day?”

You shake your head. “Not yet. Maybe some training or-”

A dull ringing sounded through the room and you hastened to the large front door, sliding to it just as Soldier rounded the corner. He gave you a quick salute before taking an accusing peek through the peep hole. “It’s a box!” He declared, throwing out a hand and forcing you to back up.

You laughed, side-stepping his arm. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, Soldier.”

“How can you know for sure?” He asked, clearly fearful for your wellbeing as you opened the door and pulled the box inside.

“Cause it’s from Scout’s mother.” You read the label, turning to shout, “Scout!”

“I hear ya callin’ my name, toots, but I also hear some cookies callin’ me!”

“Scout!” Soldier yelled, hefty the rather large box over one shoulder and entering the living room. “You come when Sneak orders you to! She is your superior!” 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Scout held up two hands, frowning at Soldier. “Since when is she my superior?”

You placed your head in your hands. “Oh for the love of god! Scout, it’s a box from your mom.”

Expression lightening instantly, Scout hastily grabbed the box, setting it onto the table and pulling out a pocket knife. You, Engie, and Soldier crowded around him as he pulled open the cardboard flaps. “Score!” Scout shouted, reminding you of a small child.

He pulled out several large bags of candy, a new baseball bat and glove, a brand new gaming console, and several video games. As he tore into the bag of mini chocolate bars, you picked up one of games, a smile widening on your lips. “I know what we’re doing today!”

Scout glanced over, laughing hard. “A dancin’ game? As if!”

Eyebrows raised, you waggle the game in front of his eyes. “Scared I’ll be better than you?”

He couldn’t resist a challenge, no matter how hard he tried to, and grabbed the game console. “You’re on, toots!”

Engie helped you set up the new console, and by the time the game had loaded with both you and Scout standing in front of the large television, the rest of the Mercs had gotten up. You watched money pass hands between Sniper and Demo, the men looking over at your accusing gaze. “Which one of you expects me to fail?” You asked as Scout ran to grab some water bottles.

Sniper chuckled. “Neither of us, mate. I’m betting that Scout’ll give up after the first dance, Demo’s thinkin’ it’ll be the second.”

Demo winks. “We could never bet against ya, lass. ‘Specially when Scout’s the other option.”

You laughed as Scout returned with two bottles, handing you one before dramatically stretching. He turned to glance behind the couch, abruptly waving his hand. “Ah, Spy. Glad you could come watch me teach Sneak a thing or two about dancin’.”

You’re eyes briefly met Spy’s before you quickly turned back to the TV, blush already rising to your face. Engie, Medic, and Sniper settled on the couch behind you, Heavy and Demo to the one on your left, Spy joining Soldier to the one on your right with Pyro taking a seat on the floor. You gave a thankful breath that at least Scout stood between you and the object of your affections, and quickly selected a dance mode, letting the guys argue over which song to play. They finally decided on an old yet still well liked song, and the dancers on the screen began to move.

You’d played games like this before and though it took several seconds to get back into the groove of it, it wasn’t long before your score was thousands of points ahead of Scout’s. The song ended with a flourish that Scout missed by a mile, and the final scores were flung into the screen. A+ for you, F- for Scout. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sniper gesturing to Demo, and you covered your mouth to stop the giggles. “One more!” Scout demanded, and Sniper pounded his fist against his knee.

Another dance, another failure, and Sniper tossed some cash to Demo as Scout gave up with a huff, grabbing his water and sinking to the floor next to Pyro. You were slightly winded but eager to play, and looked around the room hopefully. “Anyone want to give it a shot?”

Pyro jumped to his feet, nodding quickly. Surprisingly, the little firebug was excellent, and after several songs, you had to admit defeat, gasping for air as you downed your water. You caught Spy staring at you from across the room, offering him a small smile, shocked when he returned it, your blush reddening. “I got this fightin’ game too!” Scout shouted suddenly. “Anyone wanna play that?”

You held up your hands in defeat, allowing them to switch out the games. Soldier was enthusiastic to take a crack at it with Scout, jumping to position when the military man appeared on the screen. You inhaled deeply when you saw this left an open seat next to Spy, and after a minute to collect yourself you meandered over. Spy glanced up at you as you took the seat. You focused your attention on the two men as they mock fought, fists flying clumsily. “You dance very well.” Spy commented quietly, and you clutched your hands in your lap.

“It’s not real dancing though.”

He pondered this for a moment. “Do you know real dancing?”

His question drew your eyes, and you see he has genuine interest, though the mask covered any potential blush your probing gaze looked for. “My mom forced me into a waltzing class last summer. Not sure if I remember anything.”

“Do-,” He paused, suddenly turning his face towards the TV. “Perhaps I could…”

He seemed flustered at his own thoughts, and you smiled, deciding to give a helping hand. “Do you waltz, Spy?”

He nodded, though he bit his lip instead of responding. You gave another conversational nudge. “Maybe I could show you what I remember, you could help tune me back up to shape. I’m sure my mom would appreciate it if I came home for break and could still dance.”

The grateful look that crossed his face made your heart flutter. “Oui, I would love to.”

“Awesome! Name a time and place, and I’ll be there.”

His gaze lingered on your smile, both of you turning back to the screen when Scout gave a loud battle cry. He and Soldier played a few more rounds, but half way through you realized Spy’s knee was lightly touching yours. For the remainder of gaming time you noticed absolutely nothing else.

Spy didn’t speak with you until after dinner, showing up in the kitchen doorway as you placed the leftovers back into the fridge. You turned with grin, leaning against the counter. “Hi, Spy. Need something?”

He appeared to have regained his nerve since your earlier conversation, as he didn’t stutter or blush. “Are you free now? To dance, I mean?”

Your face lit up at his question. “Yeah, definitely!”

“Good, come with me.”

You followed him down the hall to an empty storage room, Spy opening the door for you and gesturing for you to enter. The room was entirely barren save for a small table set up with a music player on top. He shut the door quickly and walked over to the music player. “We’ll see what you remember.”

He pressed play and out came the typical waltz song you must’ve practiced to hundreds of times. Stepping over to you, he held out his hand and you grabbed it, placing your other on his shoulder as his slid his around to your waist. The movements come back to you steadily, and after a few mumbled apologies, you’d gotten the hang of it. He tested what you knew, alternating between spins, dips, and turns. You kept up, your smile rising as Spy grew more and more impressed. “You’re very skilled, Sneak.”

You giggled. “Thanks. This is fun, more fun than my classes, that’s for sure. Though compared to you, I feel very underdressed.”

He glanced down at himself and then at you with a chuckle. “You look perfectly fine to me, mon ange.”

The French word was unfamiliar to you, and you were about to ask him what it meant when the song changed, the following tune definitely not a waltz number. Spy frowned, and was about to let go of you to change it, when you recognized it. “I love this song!”

He paused, listening to the first few lyrics. Nodding to the slow beat, he carefully swung you in a measured circle, attempting to match his waltzing knowledge to the song. You could practically see him counting in his head and you smiled. You caught the place of the song, quietly singing along. “And I don’t know why, I can’t keep my eyes off of you.”

Your soft singing drew Spy’s full attention, you could tell the counting stopped immediately, along with any other thought processes, and the two of you simply swayed back and forth. As the song washed over you both, you could feel Spy’s grip on your waist tightening, bringing you ever so slightly closer with each passing lyric. When the song finally came to a slow end, you were practically pressed up against him, and your eyes slid up to meet his. Another waltz started from the music player, but neither of you showed any intention of dancing. His gaze didn’t waver from yours for a second as he dipped his head down, slowly pressing his lips against yours. You pushed forward, the hand on his shoulder wrapping around his neck.

The kiss lasted for several seconds, but eventually you had to pull back. You stared at each other, a blush rising to his face, and judging by the hot feeling, rising to yours as well. You stepped back, noticing how he hesitated to allow you to move away from him. Your hands clasped in front on you, and you smiled. “Thank you for dancing with me, Spy.”

“Vous êtes si belle.” He murmured, as though to himself.

“Spy?”

He jolted, eyes blinking, his bottom lip going between his teeth. “Oui, Sneak, my pleasure.”

A silence fell between you two, and you backed up, heading to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

His face was unreadable. “Tomorrow, right.”

You nodded. “Good night, Spy.”

“Bonne nuit, mon Cherí.”

Hastily leaving the room, you rushed back to your bedroom, flinging yourself onto your bed and clutching your pillow close. A muffled cry escaped your lips, your grin widening until your mouth began to hurt. He kissed you! Spy! The RED Spy! And you’d practically run from him! 

Fear etched its way into your mind and you sat up, hearing the door across from yours shut quietly. What was he thinking right now? What was he going to do tomorrow? Hell, what were you going to do tomorrow? You’d never been in this sort of position before, especially with someone as seemingly distant as Spy. But you’d kissed, and that was a start. A wonderful, amazing, perfect start. A smile working its way back on your face, you slipped into your pajamas and slowly fell asleep, Spy’s face the last thing on your mind as your eyes closed.


	4. Je Ta Aime

The fourth moment, the final moment, was one you thought you’d never see. The very idea of watching Spy’s emotional walls completely collapse hadn’t occurred to you as something that was possible, and yet, it happened, and it was all because of you.

You woke the next morning with a glowing feeling filling your body, though your nerves kicked into over drive at the memory of the kiss, and it was with shaking hands you dressed into your uniform.   
Hesitantly leaving your room, your gaze fell onto Spy’s closed door before you took a deep breath and walked slowly down the stairs. Half the team sat around the dining table, none of the sleepy men talking, only sipping coffee and eating brand new doughnuts. You grabbed a chocolate éclair, taking the teleporter and joining the rest of the team in the locker room. You saw Spy off to the side, fiddling with his cigarette case, and he looked up at your entrance. You locked eyes for a brief moment before Demo sauntered over, showing you his new gun and blocking your view of Spy.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the team showed up, and you had to prepare for the impending battle. Both teams had recently acquired new weapons, and today was the day to test them. You stood by the metal fence, flexing your grip on your gun. Across the spawn room, you watched Spy light a cigarette. A deep boom from above you silenced the team, and they all ambled over to the metal fence, groans rolling like a tidal wave as the beginnings of rain hit the ground. “Maybe they’ll call it off, huh?” Scout mused, glancing around anxiously.

“Not likely, lad.” Demo sighed, tugging on his hat.

Retying your pony tail, you caught Spy’s eye, returning his smile. The Administrator’s voice started from the speakers, and the metal fences flew open. Unsurprisingly, your team moved less than enthusiastically from the spawn room, and you quickly sped off to find the underground part of the arena, a sudden flash of lightening bringing a shriek to your lips. Clasping a hand over your mouth, you dive away from a rocket, firing several rounds at the BLU Soldier. You hardly hit him, but it was enough of a distraction to allow you to leap out of the line of fire.

The rain came down harder on your skin, and you began to feel the sting of the harsh water, each like a strike on your back. You swore quietly, shaking your head against the rain. Glancing around, your eyes settled on a small shack tucked against a rock wall. Slinking away from the dazed Soldier, you crawled rapidly over to the door, shutting yourself within. “What the-”

The voice startled you, and you turned around with a yelp. Your yelp became a scream as the BLU Sniper drew his knife, giving you a deep slice along your side before you were able to send a series of bullets into his chest. “Fuck!” You whimpered as the BLU Sniper despawned, clutching your side and crawling over to where he had sat.

Not a single medpack to be found. Your breathing turned raspy as the pain increased and your blood flowed down over your fingers. Shrinking in on yourself, you reloaded your gun, ready to send yourself back to respawn. Suddenly, though, a lightening flash illuminated the arena, followed by a horrendous boom that most certainly wasn’t thunder. The occasional lights scattered around the arena shut down and you were bathed in near darkness. Your eyes flicked down to your belt, gasping out a sob when you see the red light on your belt had also gone out. 

The respawn was down. The fucking respawn was down, and here you were bleeding…to death. The thought hit you hard, skin growing cold and stomach dropping out. You were going to die. The rain roared outside, the lightning and thunder raging a war in the sky. Any idea of making it back to the spawn room was lost, not only to the storm, but because you had grown dizzy and tired from blood loss. Sinking back against the wooden wall, you were too exhausted to even cry.

The door to the shack suddenly opened, causing you to jump and then wail at the burst of pain in your side. “Sneak!”

Spy’s yell reached your thankful ears and he was by your side in seconds, cupping your face and gazing in horror down at your side. “Spawn’s down.” He muttered, his words cracking, tears leaking down his face.

Without hesitation, he ripped off his suit jacket, tying it roughly around your waist where it immediately grew soaked through with blood. “You’re not going to die.” He growled through clenched teeth, scooping you up into his arms.

The movement caused you to give a distressed cry, and Spy stared down at you with a horribly lost expression, anguish coating his eyes. Rushing from the shack, Spy sprinted out into the storm, leaning slightly over your body in his attempt to shield you from the rain. You couldn’t even wrap your arms around his neck, nearly limp in his strong yet shaking hands. Idly, your mind flashed back to days earlier when he’d carried you outside to paint your toes, a smile lightly touching your lips as you gazed up at the man doing everything he could to save your life. He screamed out for Medic over and over, his voice growing hoarser with each call. You let your eyes close momentarily, only vaguely hearing the sounds of other men.

You felt yourself exchange hands, though that wonderful French accent followed you the whole way. You heard the slight buzz that you knew but couldn’t place. Your thoughts faded in and out. One moment you were being held in warm arms, and the next you felt the cold chill of metal against your back. Above you, you could just barely make out two voices, one harsh and demanding, the other   
stressed and strained. You allowed yourself to slip back into unconsciousness.

 

When you finally awoke, you no longer felt the cold metal. On the contrary, you felt pleasantly warm, and devoid of all pain. Eyes cracking open, you blinked rapidly at the sudden light. Sitting up slowly, you glanced around yourself, noting Medic’s empty hospital room. Or not so empty. Your eyes caught on the sleeping figure of Spy in a dining room chair next to you, head lolled against his chest. You shifted, pulling aside the light pink hospital gown, running your fingers over the soft skin that had once held your deadly injury. “Sneak.”

Your gaze darted up, watching Spy attempt to wake himself from his stupor, rubbing his eyes before leaping from his chair. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close as he whispered, “Mon Dieu, I thought you were gone. I thought… When I saw you… Sneak, I was so scared.”

You held him equally as hard, fingers grabbing at his shirt. For some reason, the only thing that would come to your mind right then was, “I ruined your suit.”

He pulled away, eyes searching your face with an exasperated expression. “Do you really think I care, mon amour?”

You shook your head with a smile, reaching up to wipe away the tears forming in his eyes. “You saved my life, Spy. If you hadn’t found me-”

“Non!” He said forcefully, cupping your face with his hands. “Do not think about that. You’re alright now, and that’s all the matters.” He leaned down to your eye level, his face holding a resolute determination. “And I am going to make sure you’re never hurt like that again.” A smirk came over his lips. “Next battle, the BLU Bushman will pay.”

You laughed, pulling Spy back in and kissing him gently, his hands tangling themselves into your hair. His fingers skittered over your neck and you pulled away quickly. “No, Spy, that tickles!”

He raised a brow. “Oh, does it now?”

“Spy, no!” You shrieked playfully as he ran his fingers lightly over your neck, holding both your hands in his other. 

You struggled free of his grasp, instinctively attempting to tickle him back. Surprising you both, he repelled as your hands ghosted over his sides, and you froze, a grin warping your mouth. “So, someone’s ticklish after all.”

“Se il vous plaît, ayez pitié.” He held up both hands, backing away.

“No fancy French talk is going to get you out of this one.” You rushed forward, both of you tumbling to the ground as you straddled his waist, hands merciless on his chest.

He laughed hard, trying in vain to get you stop. His struggles tired you both out eventually, and so you sat breathing heavy, your hands on either side of his head as you leaned over him. The two of you gazed at each other, and his hand reached up to stroke your face. “Sneak, I love you.”

Though you knew the words were coming, you still felt a strong flutter in your body as he said them. You placed your hand over his. “I love you too, Spy.”

At this his eyes lit up, a wide grin coming onto his face, and he sat up, cuddling you and muttering a series of French words. “Spy, you’re going to have to teach me to speak French if you keep saying things like that.”

He chuckled, smiling at your face. “Alright. Je te aime.”

You repeated his words with some difficulty, but he gave an encouraging smile. “It means, ‘I love you’.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing a remarkable amount of love reflected back. “Je ta aime, Spy.”

“Je ta aime, Sneak.”


End file.
